The OC Hunger Games
by fangirlofall7
Summary: This story is the 152nd Hunger Games, in which YOUR OCs are chosen to compete in the infamous Hunger Games. First chapter is short, but they will lengthen when I receive OCs. I may or may not accept. The Hunger Games Trilogy belongs to Susan Collins, and I am not she. Please Read! :)
1. Form and Prolouge

**A/N: Hello everybody! Welcome to My O/C Story, where y'all choose the characters and I choose the plot. I hope that you enjoy this! I need as many characters as you can give me, just fill out this character form:**

**Name-**

**Age (12-18)-**

**Personality-**

**Looks-**

**District (Leave blank if character is from the Capitol)-**

**Strengths-**

**Weaknesses-**

**Other-**

**Note: I MIGHT change your characters slightly, in some aspects that I believe will benefit the story. Now, here's the Prolouge! **

Katniss Mellark watched out her window in Victor's Village, as the children went out for the Reaping. She frowned, still remembering the date that it was announced that The Hunger Games would happen again. There were no Peace Keepers, and the Capitol wasn't as strict as before, but they still had to go and compete. She glanced back at Peeta, and nodded.

"Are you sure you want to take them to the Reaping, Katniss?" Peeta asked. Katniss chewed her pale lip, watching her two children run around the house.

"I'm sure," she responded quietly. "They have to learn at some point, right?" Katniss then scooped up the two children in her arms and took them to one of the many rooms in the cottage like house, where she dressed them in the simply nice Reaping clothes. She tucked a strand of graying black hair behind her ear, and she already knew that was in for a rough day.

0-0-0-0-0-0-0

Madge looked out the window of her dad's old mansion. He had died when District Twelve was bombed so many years ago. There was no mayor now, but she was still aloud to reside in the old rebuilt house.

The people were gathering, ushered into groups by men in white uniforms. She bit her lip, remembering the fateful day that Katniss had been chosen to be in the Hunger Games—and later, the day that she won it.

Finally, the woman appeared in the distance, trailed by a blond man who was carrying their two children. She looked agitated, even from afar. Madge saw the woman tug at her blue dress, wipe a mud splotch off a white polka dot, and reach back to grab the hand of her husband a few times right before pulling away again. Madge turned from the window to consider, her eyebrows knitting together.

0-0-0-0-0-0-0

The woman stepped on to the rickety wooden stage, smiling stiffly and falsely through pounds of heavy make-up to mask her true appearance. She walked over to where she was to give a speech, quietly rehearsing the words in her mind. She spoke. She gestured towards two clear fish bowl type shapes, each with several scraps of paper in them. She eyed the children in the crowd with half pity, half hunger and excitement to see two of them compete in the Hunger Games like everyone had to. She smiled once more and finished speaking. She walked over to the bowls and drew names out of each. One boy and one girl. The tributes for the 152nd Hunger Games.


	2. Reaping Part 1

**A/N: Sorry for the delay! But thank you for the characters! I'm still accepting, in the next chapter I'll post some info. Ugh, so I typed this up earlier but I messed up and couldn't post it to the website, so I'm re-doing it here. Thank you to everyone who submitted an OC and enjoyed the chapter! Here's the actual first chapter, though. Characters appear in a random order. I'm still accepting! :D Oh, yes, and I might change a few minor details, but nothing huge. **

-Isabelle Madison-

Isabelle Madison trailed slightly behind her six older siblings, all led by a tough man whom she called 'Dad'. Her mom was at home—crying, probably—worrying about whether or not her children would get chosen. Isabelle was nervous, of course, but what were the chances that she would get Reaped?

A gentle breeze pushed her brown her into her face. Isabelle tucked it behind her ears, annoyed. "This is why I usually have a ponytail," she muttered.

"Move in, stay together," the dad said. He was ushering the children behind the ropes and into the huge community of District 11, and seemed a little worries. Isabelle didn't know why.

Finally, the siblings were settled into a group just a few inches from another large herd of people. Isabelle's blue eyes scanned the crowd for familiar faces, but she saw nothing. So she turned back to the stage and waited for Lydia Starlet—the Capitol person for her district—to begin speaking as always. After a few agitating minutes, the girl waddled on to stage, looking much more like a duck in her yellow dress then most people would like.

"Welcome, welcome," Lydia said, smiling at everyone as if this was a great event. There weren't many reactions, so Lydia just brushed off a piece of black hair from her dress and continued. "Well, as you know, today is the Reaping. I will make my way over to these bowls—" (she narrated her actions and was now standing at the clear bowls with paper) "—and I will draw a name for a boy and a girl. Okay?"

She smiled, and no one else did back. "Well," Lydia muttered, a little annoyed. "Yes. Let's draw the names now, shall we?" One pink nailed hand descended into the cup on Isabelle's right, and drew out a strip of paper. Lydia unfolded it, and leaned into the microphone to speak.

"Yes. For the ladies, we have Isabelle Madison!" For a minute, Isabelle didn't realize that her name was called. She stood there in shock for a minute. "Isabelle Madison?" Lydia repeated. Isabelle's dad shook her shoulder, and the fifteen year old jumped.

"You were called!" her dad said. He whispered something into her ear and Isabelle nodded, walking to the stage in a daze. For her worse nightmare had come true—she had been Reaped.

-Silver Ambrosia and Scarlet D'Anmoire-

In the distance of District 1, a boy and a girl walked side by side. They were close, but not close enough to be together as boyfriend and girlfriend. Many people though that they were, but they weren't. Only friends, as they would have to explain as their cheeks blushed furiously. Only friends.

The two people appeared in full view as they reached the area where plush red seats sat in rows, for the future tributes to wait to be Reaped. The girl rushed slightly ahead of the boy, and her platinum blond hair bounced in the wind. She turned around, her cold blue eyes sparking like frost. Like a hidden laugh.

"C'mon Silver," she said, leading her friend to the middle of a row. "Let's sit and wait for Laquis to come." Reluctantly (but not overly so) the boy followed, agreeing to wait for their Capitol friend to show up on stage in his bright green and orange suit.

"I hope we get Reaped this year," Silver said thoughtfully, looking at the stage. The girl laughed a little bit, then reached a hand up to ruffle her friend's dirty blond hair. Out of the corner of his eye she saw a green eye narrowed, so the sixteen year old laughed at her older (by a year) friend acting like she was a nuisance to him.

"If we get Reaped we can win, unlike the last couple tributes," she said, snorting. They had all died, losing the Hunger Games.

"Of course we'd win, Scarlet. But what if we get Reaped together? It's happened before." Silver raised an eyebrow in challenge.

"Yes, it has happened before, that two friends got Reaped. But if it happens for us we will both get out of there alive, agreed?"

"Agreed." They shook hands, in a mock agreement that if the impossible happened they would do the impossible. It was at that moment that Laquis stepped on to the stage, dressed the same way as ever.

"Welcome, District One!" he said, smiling widely. "As we all know, it's an honor to be chosen for the Hunger Games. I could talk to you all day about how important it is that our tributes win this year, but who has time for that? President Eve has asked that we shorten our speeches, and this is pretty long…"—Laquis looked thoughtful, then smiled—"so let's get on with the Reaping!"

The man waltzed over to the two bowls, humming comically to himself. Scarlet and Silver smiled, a little, but their stomachs were twisting and turning and doing flips as he reached into the female's name bowl.

"Scarlet D'Anmoire!" he exclaimed, and with wide eyes and a slightly happy, slightly nervous smile she walked up to the stage, surrounded by the applause of her District.

Laquis reached into the other bowl, and Silver held his breath. He wasn't sure whether or not he wanted his name to be drew, but there was no time for decision as Laquis pulled out a small paper and unfolded it.

"Silver Ambrosia!" he said again. Silver stood up immediately and went to the stage next to Scarlet. They exchanged glances, agreeing to discuss it further on the train to the arena.

The whole of District One applauded for the two, some of their friends whistling, sure they would end up married or something like the famous Peeta and Katniss.

Far away in District 12, Katniss Everdeen watched the replay of the Reaping with sad eyes. Because they were probably optimistic about it…and there was a ninety nine percent chance that both of them wouldn't make it out of the Games alive. The ninety-something year old watched her un-Reaped children run around. The stupid Capitol had given her extended age, and the stupid Capitol wouldn't do the same for these poor children.

-Timbre Hale-

In District 7, the girl with the eyes was walking out of her house. Her dad was inside, muttering, and her twin sister Acacia was probably hiding in the bedroom to escape the insane father. So the fifteen year old walked alone, trying to ignore the taunts of the other people in the District.

She sat in a plain wooden seat, waiting for the Reaping to begin and end. Behind her, someone muttered a little too loud.

"Oh look, Pretty Eyes is sitting in front of us," the voice had said. It was a girl, and her fellows laughed. Timbre blinked once, twice, three times, trying to clear the words out of her head (unsuccessfully). Her rainbow eyes with the gold flecks swimming in the pupils were flashing with anger.

"I've always wondered how she got those," another one said. It was probably the girl's boyfriend, or one of.

"Haven't you heard? Her dad was an ex-Peace Keeper! The Capitol did a surgery to make her eyes like that. Probably the same one to get her hair weird."

Timbre breathed out harshly through her nose, trying to control her anger. She felt someone tug a strand of long curly hair, and brushed the dark auburn in a sweep over her shoulder. She breathed similarly again, and her diagonally cut hair (from the top right of her face to the bottom of her left chin) flew up in an electric blue crown, before flopping down again.

"Oh yeah," she heard the first mutter in her ear, "it was a Capitol surgery that killed her mother." That was it. Timbre's self-restraint broke in two like a twig, and she turned around and punched the offending girl in the eye. She grabbed it and fell back into her chair, and with a smug smile Timbre turned round once again, just to see that it was time for the Reaping to begin.

A pink plaster doll—oh, sorry, _Capitol Official_—stood in front of a microphone, ready to give a speech. Timbre tuned it out, but as soon as she saw her walking over to the bowls she let her ears listen again…just in case.

"For the ladies," the plastic doll woman said, "we have…Timbre Hale!"

With wide-eyes Timbre walked up to the stage, trying to ignore the shouts of 'You can go back home!' and 'You deserved this'. Why was she Reaped? And what would poor Acacia do?


	3. Reaping Part 2

**A/N: This will be like a Part 2 to the first one, with the last few tributes I received. I hope you guys like this! The next chapters will be the train rides, and then we'll do full chapters focusing on just one person (Like one will be Timbre, another Scarlet, etc…) and that will be the full Games. No training, I just don't feel like writing it. It will be explained! Now, I hope you like how I have represented/will represent your characters. Review, favorite, follow, recommend, just do it all! ;)**

**Now, y'all are probably sick of this A/N right now, but here's a second thing: I still need OCs! I have a need for five females and nine males. Please try to keep your characters from being Mary-Sues/Gary-Lous, as they will become altered very much. So far my characters are good though, so thank you all! :D Now, the chapter.**

**_Thank you to UltimateMaxmericaShipper and Sweetzie for pointing out a mistake a made. :D_**

-Seth Danai-

Angie Charist was walking side by side with her best friend Seth. They would both slap you if you were to say that they were together, because they had nothing for each other. But they were best friends, and so they were walking through the streets of District 4 in order to reach the main area, where the Reaping would take place.

Seth hoped that the Games would be good these years. He wasn't evil, but he did like drama. Angie hoped that she would get Reaped. It's not that she was heartless, but she liked to fight.

The two sat down in beach chairs that were set in rows. Seth let the wind blow through his salty, long blond hair. Angie rolled her green eyes and pulled her short ginger ponytail tighter, so as to have that not happen to her. Her friend's brown eyes twinkled, and he leaned back casually.

"I can't wait for the Reaping," Angie whispered excitedly. Her freckled cheeks her slightly chubby, but Seth had never mentioned it—ever. "I really do hope that I get chosen…."

"Well if we do get Reaped, either of us, we're winning this, for District Four. Agreed?" Seth asked. Angie nodded enthusiastically.

For a few moments, the two sat in silence, imagining the possibilities and the can-be's. The ocean in the distance was very relaxing, but it was all disrupted as a loud voice started to speak.

"Hello District 4!" it said. On stage, a man with black hair and bright purple eyes was speaking. He gave a speech, thanking the Capitol, and tried flirting with a few of the older woman. Some giggled, but some just rolled their eyes.

"Okay then," he said after his tenth rejection. "Well, let's get to the Reaping, shall we?" He walked over to the bowls and without further ado pulled a slip out of the bowl. With a wide and annoying smile he put it back and drew another. Beside Seth, Angie rolled her eyes, but they immediately widened as she heard the name.

"Angie Charist!" With a huge grin, Angie jogged up on to the stage and jumped onto the wood. "Happy about this, aren't you?" the man asked.

"Maybe just a little…" Angie responded. The audience laughed slightly, and the man continued to pull a name out of the male jar. Quickly, fluidly, and opened it and read.

"Seth Danai!" Seth stepped on to stage next to Angie, confused about how to feel. Happy? Scared? Excited? The answer was more shocked, and neutral.

-Michelle Brocton-

The young 12 year old of District 10 was waiting amongst the crowd of spectators, sure that she wouldn't get Reaped. It was her first year, and that took immense bad luck to happen. Then again, she did have bad luck….

"Come on, Lili," Michelle said, leading her little sister to the edge of the crowd. Their parents had stayed at home to watch the Reaping from the Capitol issued T.V., so the two blond headed girls were on their own. Lili was much too young to be Reaped, but she still had to go up since their house was so dirty it was dangerous.

Finally, Michelle was situated and was holding the three year old's hand. Her hazel eyes scanned the crowd, and she saw a few Capitol people—who looked very unhappy—walking through the crowd. Michelle picked up Lili and held her off the ground, just in case they decided to launch an infamous attack. As the group passed different groups of people, they would get silent and continue talking.

The people were near them now, and Michelle quickly hushed Lili. She started to play with her long, straight hair, which hurt a little bit, but it didn't matter since it kept her quiet. The Capitol people believed that they deserved the utmost respect.

Once they had walked through all of the people, the Capitol group walked up on to the stage. From their midst, a tiny man with white hair stepped out. He used a stool and began giving a speech, oblivious to the surprised spectators. He was new!

"Oh, yesh," he continued in a strange voice, "I'm new, by the way. My name ish Sheenior Shmith, and I will be your Capitol announsher from now on! Sho, who wantsh to begin the Reaping?" No one said anything, but Senior Smith hobbled over to the bowls like he was a Barbie wearing high heels. He hopped onto another stool and pulled the names out of the bowls at one time. On his right, the male side (He was obviously unfamiliar with this), he opened the paper and read a name.

A boy walked up to the stage, and Michelle nodded at him. They were old friends, but they had grown apart. Her nod conveyed good wishes to him, nothing more nothing less. But she took that back as she heard the next name. "Mishelle Brocton!"

A woman behind Michelle offered to take Lili, and Michelle handed her over as she uncomfortably walked over to stand beside her old friend. It was like she was in a trance, or watching it all from someone else's perspective. There goes the girl, up the aisle, to her absolute doom.

"Exciting, ishn't thish folksh?" Senior Smith said.

-Laurestine Thorn-

In District 8, a girl lives. She doesn't expect anything bad to happen. She doesn't expect her best friend to get Reaped in the 151st Hunger Games. She doesn't expect her best friend to die in the Games. She doesn't expect to be invited to the funeral.

But this was a new year for Laurestine Thorn, a new year for her hope. The fourteen year old walked towards the Reaping in uncomfortable shoes, allowing the wind to play with strands of her shiny black hair. It sat on her back in waves that were from her sleeping in braids every night, and today the wind pushed a strand into her shining blue eyes.

"Hey Laurestine!" a voice called as she reached the area. She waved at her best friend Margot, who had jogged up to her. "I wonder who will get Reaped this year. Don't you?"

"I don't know," Laurestine replied delicately. "I hope that it's not me, though. My dad wants me out of the house so badly that he signed me up for an extra chance to get Reaped this year."

"That's terrible!" Something in the friend's voice let Laurestine know that she really meant it, and she smiled slightly at her way-too-pretty-for-her-own-good friend. "Should we go find a seat?" Laurestine nodded, and they went to look for a place to sit.

"I still think that you belong in District Ten," Margot said. "I mean, you've got some serious tree skills." Laurestine laughed.

"Tree skills?"

"Yes. Tree Skills." The two laughed for a moment, but it was soon interrupted by a Capitol woman (dressed in pin-up style clothes in eighties colors) stepped on stage. "Look, Loretta's here." The woman pranced on to stage like a baby elephant, but no one laughed. She was the nicest woman anyone had met in years. Other than Laurestine, that is.

"It's time for the Reaping!" the woman said happily. Laurestine and Margot quieted along with the rest of the District to hear. "First, for the ladies, we have Laurestine Thorn!" Laurestine walked onto the stage quietly. On the inside she was freaking out, but she had to stay calm. She made a quick plan on how to win as the boy was Reaped.

-Grayson Bridgewood-

The eighteen year old sat quietly in the audience of District 10, trying to ignore the fact that his silent nature had been disrupted by the loud cartoonish man called Senior Smith. He was very nice to them so far, but him and Grayson were complete opposites.

Grayson smoothed down a few wild strands of his short blond hair, and as the man finished speaking and made his way over to the bowls to draw the names.

"Grayshon Bridgewood, come on up to the shtage!" Senior Smith said. Grayson stood and walked, nodding to his old friend Michelle. Her eyes conveyed good wishes for him.

But it wasn't needed. "Mishelle Brocton!" Senior Smith called, and she walked up to the stage to stand next to Grayson.

"Exshiting, ishn't thish folksh?" Senior Smith acknowledged, laughing slightly.

-Sapphire Williams-

A girl was walking through the crowd of District 12. She had long, dark red hair and beautiful ocean blue eyes.

Finally, she reached her destination and stood next to her friend.

"Hello, Merry," Sapphire said with a voice like bells. Merry turned around from talking and smiled in her way where the skin around her eyes wrinkle so much she gains a few years.

"Hey Sapphire. What's up?" Merry asked. She had black hair, and looked a lot like her great aunt Katniss, even though she was related to her through the marriage of her great uncle.

"Nothing really. I just hope that the people who get Reaped actually want to be in the Hunger Games. It's really cruel."

"It is. I hope that you don't get Reaped though, you wouldn't be able to bring yourself to kill anyone!" Sapphire rolled her eyes.

"I'm 17. If I got Reaped I'd at least be able to hold on my own."

"Sure," Merry replied sarcastically, and then the ages old Effie Trinket stepped up on stage. She was over a hundred, but still going strong.

"Welcome, welcome, to the Reaping for the 152nd Hunger Games," she said. There were a few spatters of applause. "The Capitol has offered us this opportunity to prove our worth over the other Districts. Now, unlike many years ago, if we win we will be provided with food by the Capitol and we will be better represented among them. So it is very important that this year, District 12 wins."

There was some more applause, so Effie walked over to the bowls and spoke more about honor and privilege. Finally, she reached into the female bowl and drew a name.

"Ladies first, we have…ah! Sapphire Williams!" Sapphire stepped on to the stage quietly, not knowing what to think. At least it was her, not someone else. It would be much harder if it was someone else. Yes. It was a good thing that Sapphire had been chosen…right? She wouldn't survive this! But maybe she could…. Sapphire shook her thoughts straight as a boy was called to the stage.

The Reaping was done for the 152nd Hunger Games.


	4. The 152nd Hunger Games, Part 1

**A/N: I'm so terribly sorry for the wait. :( Hopefully I've more chapter up soon to make up for the time lost, BUT…I'll be with limited access to free writing for the next three or so weeks, then I'll be on vacation for another two. With that announcement over…WE BEGIN!**

(Yes I know I skipped the train ride.)

-Isabelle Madison-

High on a platform overlooking this year's Hunger Games arena, Isabelle Madison stood in a ready position. She had rehearsed what she would do now for all the time in the Capitol, waiting. _Analyse, run, hide, survive. Analyse, run, hide, survive. Analyse, run, hide, survive. _

The arena itself didn't matter, but she did. The other tributes did. Her mentor had given her a few tips about them—see through false acts, things of that sort. Isabelle had become a rather accomplished liar during this time as well.

She glanced around, feeling her thick hair swing in its ponytail. All the other tributes were exactly the same as her, anyone with hair past their ears in a ponytail, and every person wearing a black bodysuit. It had begun to get rather hot, in Isabelle's mind.

_When is this going to begin? _she though anxiously. It felt like forever that they'd be standing there, unable to move.

-Silver Ambrosia and Scarlet D'Anmoire-

Right next to each other the platforms, able to watch the others and send thoughts back with only their eyes. Thinking in short, calculating sentences. The mysterious and vague ones.

The District One victors felt oddly at home in the arena. There were stretches of hot desert sand in between everything, and the temperature slowly grew to unbearable. A rising sun gave sense of direction, though it was moving too quickly. To the north was a city like places, which provided many hiding spots. To the west were words, but howls were already sounding. The south held a giant ocean, but what seemed to be ice floating on it told not to drink the water for saltiness. The east provided an endless field. Well, endless until the barriers.

To be honest? Silver and Scarlet weren't too worried about this Hunger Games. They had already decided to be allies, and let's face it—who else would they need to survive? It would be easier to kill all the rest anyways.

Easier in theory, that is.

-Timbre Hale-

Timbre Hale had become accustomed to ignoring things that were unpleasant. It was a bit of a necessity, growing up with a father like hers.

But she couldn't ignore the fact that she was in the Hunger Games. It was near impossible! If she didn't die, she would hardly be able to survive with the guilt of knowing what she had to do to earn her spot. So Timbre kept her eyes locked onto the cornucopia, trying to block out the gruesome thoughts of her and others' demise.

An eerie silence had hung over the arena, and the victors still waiting on their platforms. There was no doubt about it now—they'd been waiting too long. Timbre closed her eyes, hoping someone wouldn't elect her to see if the mines were still active. They would have back at home.

_But this isn't home. _And that became clear as the person next to her, the male tribute from District 8, took a brave step off his platform. For a moment he stood on the ground, seemingly surprised that we was alive.

A siren sounded, and the ground in front of the cornucopia exploded, sending dirt into the air. A few seconds later when the debris had settled, nothing was left but a single charred shoe.

"Let the 152nd Hunger Games begin!" someone announced over a loud speaker. It had, as they said, begun.


End file.
